


Other Notable Full Moons

by BurrSquee, Tikor



Series: Castebook:  Full Moon [9]
Category: Exalted
Genre: Gen, Lunars, Roleplaying Character, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurrSquee/pseuds/BurrSquee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikor/pseuds/Tikor
Summary: A militia of Full Moon characters.





	Other Notable Full Moons

**Author's Note:**

> Sleeves of War depicted by the detailed sweaper! We used  
> [artistsnclients](https://artistsnclients.com/people/sweaper) to get in touch for the commission.

**Sleeves of War**  
When Sleeves of War underwent the Caste fixing working, the No Moon who performed it, The Silver Shadow, let Luna guide her hand. The result was the Full Moon Caste, with Clawspeak poems of armies clashing up and down both her arms. So she took the moon name “Sleeves of War”. It suits her.

Since Exalting she has corralled the buck-ogres into a fighting force fiercely loyal to her. This despite her predator spirit shape, a snow hunter. Her attacks along the Northern Threshold coast of the Inner Sea have brought her into conflict with the Dragon-Blooded repeatedly; she knows some by name and savors meeting them again in battle. She is known from the Deshan satrapies to Cherak for her raiding and pillage.

Elders in the area, such as Gerd Marrow Eater, speak of her at Gatherings. The consensus is that her activities are needlessly antagonistic. The last thing the Dragon-Blooded should get, as they inch towards civil war, is a threat to unite around. Sleeves of War could serve as that threat if her raids escalate into conquered territory. If she keeps her activity to raiding, it will serve little purpose but a few trinkets, negligibly impacting the Realm’s coffers. If she actually wrests control of any Realm-aligned lands, the retaliation could keep the Realm afloat for decades more than it would otherwise. And that’s before taking into account the standing favor to the Deshan states shown by Rabzolga, God of Slaves, Burning Feather, Lady of Intoxicants and Golden Reverie, God of Euphoria, or the Syndics’ wrath should Wallport fall, or Cherak’s Gens and their Artifact arsenals. 

Sleeves of War simply ignores any warning she receives on the matter, though. To her, attacking the Realm’s satrapies and other outposts in the North, leading them from the front line with her buck-ogres at her side, feels natural and right. She’d never settle for leading some society of farmers scraping out a living in the cold North. To her, the cautious examples her elders set appear as half-lives, hardly worth living. To her, a full life means fighting when your blood is up, raiding the storehouses of settled folk, then carrying off the spoils to the wilderness to sing and drink and spar with her wild army ‘till a new, fat target presents itself.

 **Bear Fist**  
A young Lunar under the sway of Ma-Ha-Suchi, Bear Fist was retrieved, trialed, tattooed and mentored by that elder alone. Thus sheltered from other strains of thought within the Silver Pact, Bear Fist bought into the majesty of Ma-Ha-Suchi’s vision of a tribal Creation, inhabited by men and beastmen of all types, hunting, gathering, and constantly warring against each other and any that would dare invade.

As successful as Ma-Ha-Suchi has been in indoctrinating Bear Fist to his vision of the Wardens of Gaia, the success has not been duplicated. Bear Fist has no rival for Ma-Ha-Suchi’s attentions, earning a right-hand place in the elder Lunar’s brutal society. He’s kept that place even after a disastrous rout against the Solar Exalted, Panther, to whom he lost both his pride and his smashfists in Nishion City. 

Bear Fist has been training with a clarity of purpose, lately. His combat prowess, which has always been formidable, was rather open and direct as befit a young Full Moon. Just like his personality, where he meant to strike, what he was thinking, was always on open display. Now he’s studying shadows, dosing himself with various poisons and using Luna’s gifts to both survive and recreate them, and learning the art of misdirection in combat and negotiation both. It is slow going, for Bear Fist has no natural talent with most of these tasks. But Bear Fist has the focus and the time to have many more tricks up his sleeve when he rematches Panther. Besides, Ma-Ha-Suchi’s conquest of the Hundred Kingdoms has been put on hold until a suitable and disposable ally like the Arzchecki is arranged once again. 

Bear Fist can be found in and around the Nameless Lair of Ma-Ha-Suchi in the East, usually accompanied by a dozen goatmen of Ma-Ha-Suchi’s lineage on patrol or training in the jungle. At least one of these goatmen will be close enough in bloodline to be considered god-blooded and may even have mastered her Essence. The rest are slightly faster, stronger, hardier, and certainly hairier than base humanity, but closer to men than to gods or Exalted. Bear Fist has proven to them his personal might and his connection to Ma-Ha-Suchi, which is enough for the goatmen to follow his orders, and even grant him some respect. 

**Sha’a Oka**  
Rumors of Sha’a Oka’s death have been greatly exaggerated. He is alive and well, and as involved in the fight for control of the Caul as ever, or so the gossip in the Gatherings say. To hear Sha’a Oka described in his sister Lunars’ stories, every time he sheds a drop of blood in a battle the rumors on the wind say his throat was cut. Of course, there was the one time his throat was cut, but when that healed up it didn’t even leave a scar. It’s like his enemies have never seen a Full Moon fight before. 

Sha’a Oka may have been marked a Full Moon for his love of combat, but His Magnificent Lunar Presence is as devoted to Luna as any one of her priests. Ever since the Silver Lady touched him and told him of her sacred lands, he has worked to rule them in her honor and for her reverence. Some might say it is unfortunate that they are also the holy lands to the Elemental Dragons, and thus the Dragon-Blooded. To Sha’a Oka, it is simply another devotion to his goddess. He knows that victory will be all the sweeter for the efforts it took.

Still, Sha’a Oka wishes to hasten the day where all the holy cities of the Caul sing praise to Luna as one. He has made it known that any manner of help by any type of being would not be forgotten in his rule. So far, that has spurred tribute in the form of supplies and provisions from several Lunar-influenced societies, most notably the Delzahn from Tammuz’ likely manipulations. Sha’a Oka counts several gods in his faction’s favor, notably Tachi-kun, Central god of War for his repeated acts of Exalted heroism and Jewel of Prosperity, Goddess of Southern Peace for keeping the Dragon-Blooded too occupied in the Caul to focus on their Southern satrapies’ many disobediences and heresies. Sha’a Oka boasts the that goddess of the Caul itself, Kootsai, goddess of the Caul and Island Temples, sees the justice in his fight. But just as many divine beings oppose him, such as Jagalza, the Satrap of the Realm for all the Dragon’s blood he has spilt, and Ten Thousand Spears, god of Large Armies for the repeated losses such forces have suffered at his hands in the Caul’s jungles. Sha’a Oka sees the Solar’s return as a golden opportunity to win their help to finish the fight. Tikor, Truth’s Retriever, an influential Lunar of the Sun King Seneschals, has heard this and promised to arrange a Solar and Lunar pair to help win the fight for the Caul.

Sha’a Oka is over a millennia old, an elder by Lunar standards. During the Shogunate, his efforts to retake the Caul barely dented the Dragon-Blooded’s hold on the five temple cities there. Taking a brief respite to help his kin in the Swords of Luna do their best to hold back the Balorian Crusade, Sha’a Oka came back a much more puissant fighter, and found a much weakened opposition. His tribes have beat a steady rhythm of victories for the whole of the Scarlet Empress’ reign, but his tribes could never hold the cities they captured for long under focused Dragon-Blooded attacks. When she disappeared and many Realm troops recalled, all but Faxai fell in short order and none have since been recaptured.

His Spirit Shape is that of a black lion, his tell a tail covered in black fur in every form he takes. He is at home in the jungles of the Caul, and his tribes find easy scavenging outside the cities they have conquered. They are also his favorite battleground. Intellectually, he understands that the guerrilla tactics he employs that have pushed the Dragon-Blooded back to their only remaining bastion of Faxai cannot dislodge them from there. With only one point on the map, there are no ground-based supply lines to ambush, no troop movements to massacre, no orders to intercept. He is no sailor, and has no ambitions to rule the Southwest Sea. Still, naval support is what he needs to set a true siege to Faxai. And any such fleet would attract the attention of the Realm’s Water and Fire fleets to their rear. As it is, he has simply kept the Dragon-Blooded from the rest of his jungles and cities, kept the fight for the Caul alive among the Silver Pact, and maintained the standstill for the moment.

 **Resch Dan**  
Resch Dan is possibly the oldest Lunar alive, if he is still alive, that is. The only positive evidence supporting his continued life is his Exaltation's lack of re-emergence in Creation, and the unknown location of the Moonsilver key that he has safeguarded since the forging of the god of locks. Stacked against that is the fact that no one has seen him since the Usurpation, when he used the Moonsilver key to escape Meru to parts unknown. He was never found for his tattooing, and has not made it to a Gathering since the High First Age. At least, that’s what any Lunar will tell you.

If you were to listen to the songs sung in the Deep Wyld, they’d tell you the story of Gray Rhino and his Silver Key. The Wyld is the lifeblood of the Raksha: their air, their muse, their friend. The Wyld is all connected, and can be made to loop upon itself through space, like the great Breakthroughs of the Balorian Crusade. But these powers are for the Fair Folk and their Unshaped cousins alone. Any others who would use it are driven mad by exposure long before they master the simplest commands. The Gray Rhino has taken that power, stole the Raksha’s familiar way with the Wyld after unlocking it with his Silver Key. He uses it to stay one step ahead of the madness, remaining himself, remembering his mission, sliding through the cracks of chaos, and charging down anyone who would waylay him. For once you command the Wyld, it cannot hurt you. His enemies take a step along The Way and find themselves turned around. They swing their Swords only to find them embedded in their lovers. They decree with their Staves only to find their tongues tied. They offer their Cups only to be spurned. They trace their Rings around him but never encircle him. And for all that, they miss him in their Hearts. He remains free, the singer of his own song, never letting a thing attach to or change him. He flows like quicksilver off of anyone and anything. Such a target is irresistible in Rakshastan, legendary, for being the one to bind him to your story would be a feat worth the respect of any Court.

But then, the Wyld will tell you anything.

 **Blood Orchid**  
Blood Orchid hails from the deepest of Eastern Jungles. Her mother-tribe governs itself by matriarchal lineage, where land and titles are passed from mother to daughter, as it has been for as long as anyone can remember and then some. As a third daughter of a great name however, she did not learn the skills her older sisters learned: passing judgement on crimes, managing lands, and providing for their people. Her brothers provided strength to the Reyna of the village, and were part of her guarding force. But this too was not a direction for Blood Orchid. She learned her father’s craft of gathering needed things in dangerous places. Be that venom from an elusive snake or a medicinal plant from the highest canopies, Blood Orchid learned her craft and did it well, and to the Wyld with what her mother and sisters thought of it.

While she continued learning the value and secrets of the forest surrounding her village, things were changing unbeknownst to her at home. The village shaman had begun experimenting with summoning, but not with mere elementals. Demons. This was strange, as it was not the tribe's way, but the shaman of Blood Orchid’s tribe were allowed to act strange so long as they kept the tribe safe from the spirit world. His experimentation eventually came to fruition, and a minor demon, an angyalkae, was summoned. She was beautiful, charming, learned, and musical. The shaman fell in love, and they had great success dealing with the local spirits as a team. She would play music to soothe the godly souls, and he would negotiate for the tribe’s favor. The angyalkae grew to love the shaman as well, and she revels in stretching her dozens of fingers to pull alien music from Creation’s blue skies. She told the shaman of her friends and family back in Malfeas, fellow angyalkae like herself, who she would love to speak with again, and to share the place she had made for herself here in Creation. The shaman, enraptured by his now-bride, endeavored to summon his new in-laws. Yet, in his preparation, the Reyna, leader of the tribe, learned of the lovers’ plan. She forbid him to summon any further demons, as she felt the risk to the tribe was not worth their presence. The shaman agreed to his chief's face, but with his wife’s help he summoned her friends and family in secret. Once in Creation, they hid in the spirit’s plane, outside the sight of mere men. To take revenge at being slighted, to be able to enjoy Creation materially as their sister had, the newly summoned angyalkae crept into the chief's tree by night and killed the Reyna. With her dead, the shaman had hoped to become the next leader so that he would never be parted from his beloved, but the Bantay - the warriors loyal to the now dead leader - would not stand for it. They stood their ground against the shaman, and therefore the demons with him.

It was returning from Blood Orchid’s forest hunt that she smelled smoke, on the fateful day of her Exaltation. She came home to flames and screaming and blood. Her tribe’s tree-homes were being ransacked by creatures the like of which she had never seen before; tall, slim creatures with dozens of fingers with many joints playing music as they cut down her fellow tribesmen. They were tearing down everything she knew. Bantay and village people were scattered everywhere, many in pieces. There were no sign of her brothers.When an elder came and dropped down at her feet from injury, the shock she felt melted away to leave a fury unlike one she had ever felt in her life. And with that, Luna’s strength filled her veins and she moved forwards, slaying all those she could. It wasn’t until later that she learned what had happened with the shaman: he was the first that the Bantay had slain, thus escalating the violence. No one remained of her village. It was nothing but a smoldering, broken wreck. Blood Orchid vowed, at that very moment, to avenge her family and her village; to banish all demons from Creation.

And so she began to travel, and to train. After being tattooed, she stayed in the jungles of the East and farther East into the Wyld, for that was the area most familiar to her. And it was there, in the depths of her training that she found her. A brown woman, shorter than herself and with green hair. With her was a mospid and a large tree-leopard. There were only so many kinds of people that ventured this deep into the jungle, and none of them meant good things. But it would likely be a good chance to test her training. The unknown woman called out to Blood Orchid, and mentioned a flower that she was looking for. Pointing out that flower, Blood Orchid proposed a climbing race for it’s sweet nectar, and took off with great speed. And so, moving like the great jungle cats, clawstriders, and tree snakes, she fought to take the life of the strange woman. She was strong and fast, which sharpened Blood Orchid’s interest. She only got close to the jungle interloper once, only one swipe tried, and that parried. Somehow the strange woman got both the flower and escaped with her life. Blood Orchid watched as the wind took her away. Perhaps next time, the strange, familiar woman would play with her again. Her dreams seem to think so.


End file.
